Long time no blog fuss! I have been at the height of Mary Fuss, more infections for me, and my daughter has been doing GCSE's - and my long suffering young son part time at school, due to chronic health problems. Meanwhile, my husband behaving like a helicopter, whirling around with endless projects and hair brained work schedules. He of course regularly keeps doing terrible things to keep me amused, and once in a while develops a probing and suspicious tone with me, along the lines of.." you are not going to write about any of the things I do are you dear!?" I just snort in a non committed manner and carry on as normal. I am of course still taking my nutri thryoid and nutri adrenal and getting on with my LDN, which is all making some subtle differences to my every day existence. One change less of a reaction to insect bites.. these normally make me very ill, less so now.
I had a nice flying visit to see Dithers in London, and was met with a very grand looking double bed made up for my relaxation. We had a hilarious time, I had been to a patient conference for one of my conditions, and she had been doing endless over time at work. I was put to bed with no less than 9 pillows, and she seemed to want to try and stuff them under my head all once. I ended up drinking wine in bed bolt upright not quite knowing how I would ever lie flat again
. Having quickly done my medical appointments in London, I arrived home from my rapid London trip, to my man grinning in a manner which suggested that something totally ridiculous has taken place in my absence. This revealed itself in the form of him having purchased some pretend 'Crocs' from a certain German Supermarket, a suspect wellington green colour, and quite clearly from the way he was walking - one size too small. He clapped his hands together over enthusiastically whilst grinning inanely at me to see what I thought. I asked him WHY he had bought them a size too small, actually I knew the answer already - he had wanted them, and the right size was not available so had bought them anyway. This is not the first time.. years back, whilst he slopped around Eastern Europe in the nag end of a market, wearing another pair of pretend 'Crocs' from the same supermarket, two sized too big for him - left behind by our friend 'Hairy Legs', he decided to purchase a pair of quite frightful leather hiking boots.. again these were bought in the wrong size and given to me, being apparently such a bargain. I rapidly flung them as far away as possible. The day I want to resort to goose stepping about the place in suspect tan, shite coloured boots with laces resembling barbed wire....it would indicate a certain type of hike and not one I would be taking, but more likely him.
So not much news here, I am preparing to go to Glastonbury Festival and sulk in a caravan which will probably be up to it's windows in mud, but plenty of music will distract me. I have practiced for my amazonian style experience by wading waste deep through the weeds and cow parsley in the garden trying to tidy it up so that people who view our house can actually see it...everything got cut back in the end and very tidy we look too. However of course it won't last. I can never maintain appearances. Last night was an example of this, we had lots of friends around to have a quiet drink. Having had two large glasses of wine, I had to go up the stairs on my hands and knees, and left my husband dancing in the garage with wild people testing his new sound system in there. I had wondered why he had been in there so frequently, apparently dealing with a number of vital things...it was of course a music system being wired in..a special lets procrastinate for weeks etc service. We once set up our entire garage as a rave for all the young people attending a relative's wedding in our garden. However nobody under 30 went in there, and at 3.30 in the morning, lots of people between 35 and 70 were getting on down to The Rolling Stones. When I finally confiscated the 'decks' away from the garage at around 5 am.. the two sheepish people involved were red faced and middle aged!
I have had several episodes of maximum fuss in the last two weeeks. I had a repeat of making gluten free pastry at the height of PMT again, not a good idea. The first lot ended up in ball on my lavender bush outside months ago, the second lot refused to stick to the window when I flung it, so I did press it into a dish and incinerate it when not paying attention to the blind baking. The third lot almost turned into a frisbee when pressed into a glass pyrex lid, and at the last moment as I prepared to whizz it out of the backdoor in a fit of temper, I remembered it was part of a set which had belonged to my late mother that dish, and for nostalgia's sake, I kept hold of it. It turned out fine. A very edible quiche.
As it cooked I had a sudden memory of my old domestic science teacher at school. A very matter of fact sort of lady, with a severely parted mannish hair do, sensible beige skirts, and a variety of facial expression and twitches which indicated complete disapproval of certain antics involving myself and rather a wild friend. She had a special way of standing with her feet at ten to two, and her arms outstretched like pinchers. I once went back to a do at the school years later.. and having a tour of the very room where I learnt my culinary incinerations...realized that she was gazing in a very knowing manner at where I was looking - which was at the ceiling to see if the hundreds of dough lumps we flung up there ten years earlier to hang down as stalectites from the very high ceilings were still there - much to my delight they were! They had of course turned a lovely shade of hardened institutional grey.
She was a very good teacher I might add, but I was frequently distracted by the fact that she had removed her eyebrows years previously - only to thickly paint them back on higher up her head with what looked like some sort of brown laundry marker. I do get very fixated by things like this. My friend Dithers does as well, she telephoned me the other day to explain that her trip to Ireland to scatter her mother's and aunt's ashes had gone well, and had been a most beautiful West Coast experience but then proceeded to tell me in great detail about her main distraction there had been nuns wearing american tan tights with navy blue orthopedic leather sandals, and how she could not take her eyes off them. She then proceeded to tell me about some horrendous bungee jumps she had done off a crane years ago, which she had felt the better of telling me about. Apparently for dutch courage Dithers had consumed a number of stiff drinks.. and said it was a waste of time, as the minute she flew off the crane upside down, she was stone cold sober immediately.
Apart from tangles with estate agents, we have been trying to treat any day or evening with the sun out as a holiday. He came rushing back the other day, set up some deckchairs, poured a large glass of wine, sat down, stretched and yawned in an expansive manner, wearing crisp white shirt and cream linen trousers, causing deckchair to collapse flat and red wine to cover himself liberally. He then sat in the garden in his underpants as I soaked clothes, only brand new that day in cold water - and much to the amazement of forgotten about visitors continued to stride about only sporting a pair of outrageous underpants purchased by Father Christmas, last December. As if normal attire, with the sun having disappeared only to be replaced with a stiff and very chilly East wind. Other than relaxing home things - between work commitments and boring collective aliments - we have had lots of fun playing music, I have been attempting to play my violin.. and managed to avoid the village fete worse than death by double booking myself miles away, to watch him at one of his wilder gigs.
Our house de junking has been going a treat, as fast as I throw stuff out, he brings in new things to clash with our house of many colours, which are normally larger objects than the ones removed. If we sell we sell, and if not we don't care. I saw the most DREADFUL woman driving past the windows making an awful slowed down revving noise with her car, with her neck on elastic staring in.. I loathed her on sight, and won't let her in!
I did have a few weeks with mainly having to go to bed half of each day. I nearly had cabin fever and. ridiculous things peppered my imagination, I was tempted to blog, but with one doing GCSE's and having to take days off in bed, had to structure and support that work, and also help my young boy with his home studying when not fit for school. However I was still up to my usual nonsense I found myself confiscating some vile cereal somebody left in the house, which seemed to totally consist of sugar, found myself thinking it might be bad for the hens teeth if I gave it to them!
Also one night, I awoke convinced I was in the middle of a particularly detailed nightmare consisting of rotten fish. I did in fact turn out to be reality. A wild local friend of ours had summoned my husband early evening - to get his boat out and and help her remove dead fish from a large man made lagoon, off he went leaving me gently snoring with the news on - it had turned into a wine fueled adventure for them.. He arrived back and thoughtfully lay next to me on the top of the bed hoping I would like to hear about it...He had been handling rotten fish and reeked to the point of me gagging.. totally rotten fish infested wet clothing. I has been months since I have been able to move at the speed of light pushing a fully grown man into the nearest bathroom. His response, do I pong a bit dear? He did recover the situation and after a gentleman's bath to be proud off re appeared in a reassuring cloud of patchouli oil.
Today he has gone off looking for a number of things we urgently need - which apparently I don't need to know about, I sense a another new blog soon!
ps.. sick of the behaviour of CQC and the DoH.. want to help do your bit to change the culture, and help that 15.7 billion in litigation go into patient care? Medical staff and the public must be able to raise concerns with no loss of career or care. Please SIGN and CIRCULATE this petition.